


Fifty Shades of Bored

by cavedwellingfangirl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Chains, Collars, Fluff and Smut, Gags, Light BDSM, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavedwellingfangirl/pseuds/cavedwellingfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnlock smut fanfic. BDSM, duh, look at the title. Hope you enjoy :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty Shades of Bored

Stupid, boring old newspaper, I thought to myself. Why in bloody hell are there no possible cases in any of these articles? This was the fifth paper I looked at today hoping to find a case. Sherlock is progressively going crazier and crazier as time continues to pass with no case for us to go on. It is taking a lot of effort for me to remain sitting still when all I really want to do is just fidget around. The only thing I know is that the moment I start to move, I will go more insane than I did that one time when Sherlock had spent two hours pacing the floor nonstop; even though for him there weren’t many steps in either direction. It had taken him forever to bloody realize that pacing wasn’t helping and that he should just stay put. But of course there was no such thing as Sherlock without his dramatics. He couldn’t find anything to pretend to do, of course not. He couldn’t just act like me, sitting here, ranting in my head as I at least tried to do something productive. No, he just had to stare blankly at the ceiling as he lay on the couch. He wouldn’t even go into his bloody mind palace. If I don’t find something soon, Sherlock will probably find a new reason to use that spear and terrorize everyone by returning blood spattered. Although that wasn’t exactly terrifying to me. At first I had considered it was his blood, but then I saw the glint in his eye. He was proud and happy of himself. He knew he had succeeded and if he’d gotten messy in the process, well, what did it matter. It was utterly sexy that look and seeing him lose control due to his lack of entertainment. I remember wanting to trace my hands along all those tense muscles in his body, and…wait. Now is not the time for this John. Let’s focus on finding a case.

Lost Cat, ya that’s helpful. Hmmmm….stock markets… rugby scores… criminal captured… unfortunate law passed… Cathy Christanoff found dead in her home... police have no leads… Well this could be something. Doors were locked, no forced entry... last seen with her coworkers grabbing a drink after work... death occurred hours after they’d all separated to go home. Well this is definitely something I smiled to myself. “Sherlock,” I tried to control my voice and keep some of the pride out of it, “Listen to this. Cathy Christanoff, 38 years old, was found dead in her home on Tuesday and robbed of over £200,000 in valuables that were taken from her home while her husband was away on a business trip. There were no signs of forced entry or any appearance of a struggle. Despite the lack of evidence the police believe that there was foul play.” I look up at him happy since there may in fact be a case. He hasn’t responded but his head is tilting so he at least heard me and is thinking about what I just said. “Do you think we should look into it?”

“Mrs. Christanoff had a heart problem. Too much excitement was sufficient to kill her. Because of this, sex made her heart weaker causing her to need to avoid any excitement immediately after; a condition that both her husband and her lover were aware of. Mrs. Christanoff, however, never actually cared for her lover. She knew that he was at risk of being evicted from his home and made no move to help him. Her lover had noticed that she had been looking for his replacement instead of helping him to stay around. That’s why she went out with her coworkers for the first time in months instead of staying home the way she usually did. Once he knew of her husband’s business trip the rest of the plan fell into play. He obviously had sex with her and did something to surprise her or scare her when her heart was already weak causing her to drop dead. He then stole her valuables so that he could keep his home. No forced entry because she let him in, doors locked because he has a key, no struggle because you do not have to fight to agitate a heart. No case here, even the police can figure this one out.”

Fucking arse. I can’t help but gape at him. Does he have to be so bloody brilliant? And so arrogant about it too. He is downright proud of his ability to close a case within minutes and understand what people are up to. But honestly, couldn’t he have at least pretended that the case was a little harder to solve just so he could put pause on the boredom for a moment. And the way he does it too. States all these genius things and then goes back to staring at the ceiling blankly looking so unmoved as if he hadn’t spoken at all a few moments before. And then how does he even know Mrs. Christanoff? She definitely never came in here with a case before. What was her connection to Sherlock? But then again, Sherlock no doubt just knows all this information about her without actually knowing her the same way he is with so many other people. Shit. Have I just been staring at Sherlock this whole time? Maybe I should look away. But no, wait, something’s off here. Not quite right.

Something about the way Sherlock is laying there looks wrong, not the fact that he is laying down and not in his mind palace but just something about him is out of the ordinary. I stare at Sherlock more intently, scanning his body in a more medical way than before. My eyes comb over Sherlock, running from the tips of his toes over his legs making sure that nothing is broken or injured or even just something new that I hadn’t noticed before and is now starting to distract me. My eyes climb up his thighs and over his hips making me sigh softly as I remember all the explicit things that Sherlock can do to me with his hips whenever I am laying underneath him. Oh the feel of those hips and the force they drive whenever Sherlock is pounding into me and of course the always existent rush of pleasure as Sherlock my prostate very hard with his thrusts in carefully calculated patterns. And the feel of Sherlock’s skin, tight over his hip bones when I run my fingers along those hipbones tracing patterns onto them just so I can keep feeling him and he can still feel me as we lay there spent dozing in and out of consciousness. What Sherlock does when we have sex, it’s so different. It leaves me so tired and feeling so much more satisfied than ever before. I can feel my body starting to respond to the thoughts that I am having but I know that I will have to ignore these thoughts. Sherlock has made it clear that he is completely in control of my body sexually, He gets to decide when I’m allowed to have sex with him and when I can’t. The only thing he’ll let me have verdict is on the times when I choose to masturbate but those are no longer as satisfying now that I’ve had sex with him in so many better ways. Oh bloody, I’m supposed to be checking Sherlock to see that he’s ok not staring at his hand that is trying to cover his slightly hardened cock. 

My eyes trace along Sherlock’s torso and arms and the long thin fingers of his left hand which rest on his stomach while his right rests a little lower. I follow the line of his curved long neck that I love to use to draw moans from Sherlock’s lips. I smile again but it only lasts for a second before I immediately scowl. How is it so hard to look at Sherlock without thinking about sex? Honestly I’m like a young bloke following all the pretty girls around with my mouth hanging open. And more annoying yet, everything looks perfectly fine. From Sherlock’s toes to his handsome, flushed face, there is nothing new or out of the ordinary. So what caught my eye? Granted it is slightly strange that Sherlock’s face is flushed but I don’t think that that is what caught my eye. The flat is definitely not warm today though so I have no idea why he is flushed. But before I can think any longer, Sherlock’s lust filled eyes widen considerably as he jumps up from the couch and runs towards his room muttering something about a contract. I can’t help but roll my eyes at his sudden movement and strange antics. I might as well go back to reading this paper since Sherlock is obviously not planning to pay any attention to me and I might as well finish this one thing.

About a minute later Sherlock returns to the room. I can feel him staring at me as I read the paper but I decide that it’s just best if I ignore him. After all, he may just be doing what I did to him back to me.

“John,” Sherlock speaks to me in a stern tone, “I’m bored.”

Congratulations. “I noticed,” is all I say as I continue trying to read the paper in front of me. Really? Because I’m so bloody entertained.

“John,” Sherlock speaks again, and I can hear it. The smile in his voice that isn’t a good one. It’s definitely a wicked smile with many malicious thoughts and actions hidden in it, “it’s your job to entertain me.”

At this, I look up at Sherlock, “come again?” How on earth am I supposed to entertain him? I’m no actor I’m an army doctor.

“You have to entertain me, John, it’s in the contract you signed. Didn’t you read the contract I gave you?”

Sherlock gave me a contract? No he didn’t. This must be the insanity of boredom talking. And besides, who creates a contract where you assign your boyfriend the job of entertaining you? All you should be doing for your boyfriend is trying to give him a strip tease. Oh. Wait, that’s it. I look down at Sherlock’s crotch and I see it. His trousers are definitely tighter down there then how they normally are. And his face is still flushed. And yes, lust blown eyes. That confirms it. That was what was catching my attention about Sherlock, he’s aroused. I smile and look up at him, “You know damn well that I never read the contract, nor do I plan to. I just need to have you, no matter what the conditions are.”

Sherlock smiles at me as he walks closer. But walk isn’t really the right word at all since Sherlock is walking towards me the way a lion would approach its prey. “Well in that contract, it states that you have to entertain me whenever I am bored,” Sherlock purrs standing over me. His long legs help him to tower over me sitting on the couch easily. How I wish I could just reach up and pull him down towards me. Sherlock bends slightly putting one hand on either side of me; leaving me effectively trapped on the couch. “So now,” Sherlock continues, moving in closer to me, “we are going to play a quiet game for my entertainment.” I can feel the heat radiating off of Sherlock’s body. His mouth is inches away from me but I know that I cannot close that distance without permission even though I am in fact dying to do it. “Silence, John, is necessary. You cannot speak or even moan or else I will punish you for not obeying. Do you understand?” Sherlock asks staring at me expectantly with an evil glint in his eye.

I smirk because I know that the game between us two has now officially begun. Dropping the newspaper off to the side of the couch I look at Sherlock as I lick my lips and then nod my head in compliance. I watch as the glint changes and Sherlock’s pupils dilate even more with his lust. “Good,” Sherlock practically purrs as he lunges at my throat and bites the tender flesh there, hard enough to leave a mark. I exhale but hold back the groan that the bite makes me want to release. Of course he would go for that spot I think. Sherlock has mapped by body out just like I’ve mapped out his body. We both know what spots make our spines arch, what makes us groan, moan, scream, and writhe. I smile because I know that I can win this game. I tip my head back to give him better access because Sherlock is hilarious if he thinks that I ‘m going to lose this game so quickly. He can push all my buttons all he wants; I am a soldier and I know how to obey the hardest of orders. I smile as I can feel the small hint of frustration that makes his body twitch ever so slightly in response to my actions. He pulls away slightly and I immediately wipe off the smirk because I know he’ll soon release my neck and I want to mess with him completely. I will drive Sherlock insane without him realizing just what it is that I am doing to him. Sure enough Sherlock grinds his teeth side to side along my skin and I know it’ll leave a mark. There are always at least three after spending the day with Sherlock. It’s his favorite thing even though he doesn’t know that I know it. He loves seeing me marked; loves the fact that I let the marks he leaves me be seen. He is always so happy to see those little confirmations of the fact that I am indeed his.

“Good job, John,” Sherlock says, his voice fully composed not betraying him at all but I know him so well that I can no longer be deceived by his mere voice even though it is most compelling. I stare at him patiently and look into his eyes. Always an undecided color, they are most astounding when he is aroused. The gray and blues in his eyes color the outer area of his pupils in broken yet balanced patterns like shards of glass glued back together reflecting the light differently every few spots. But the center of his pupil closest to his iris is what is most astounding. There are flecks of gold and amber that soften his eyes and make them look so incredibly warm and welcoming. I could stare at them for days just watching how each emotion affects the color of them. Sherlock chooses then to straddle me over the chair. He pushes my legs together and wraps his legs around me. I feel the heat rise in my body as blood rushes towards my cock at the sight of him on top of me and the feel of his ass on my lap.

One of the most deceiving things about Sherlock is the softness of his body. It is true that Sherlock has plenty of muscle all around his body and every part of him is connected by muscles but that only makes him firm not hard. His muscles are so perfectly balanced that even though he is firm all around, he is still soft enough to let you grab a good handhold and at night they allow you to bend into their shape. His softness melts my rough edges just like my softness melts his rough planes and together we fit into each other so completely and so perfectly that I never feel like he is close enough until we are so close that I can’t tell where one of us begins and the other ends. I smile up at Sherlock in my lap as I think o0f us lying tightly together as I wait for a command. I know he is biding his time hoping to make me impatient enough that I break silence.

“Carry me to the bedroom,” Sherlock finally says calmly. I’m more than a little surprised by his request but I’m pretty sure that’s what he was hoping for. So instead I smile as I move forward on the couch pulling him in closer to me and lifting his arms so that they are wrapped around my neck. I then place one hand on the middle of his back and I use my other hand to cup his ass and hold him in place. I stand from the couch and I can only imagine how ridiculous we look with me having to look up to look at Sherlock’s face as opposed to looking levelly at him the way I would with other people when carrying them in this way. Regardless though, I follow his orders and carry him into the bedroom. We walk through the door, neither of us saying a thing. All we can hear is each other’s breaths and my footfalls as I walk. Sherlock eventually stops holding on so tightly to me with his arms and instead opts for running his hands along the muscles of my back, tightening his legs around my hips while we make it into the center of the room. I stand there holding him as I wait for orders and I lightly, teasingly rub my fingers along his ass where I hold him, grabbing him slightly but never holding onto him too firmly. “Release me,” Sherlock whispers and I slowly drag my hand across his ass as I release him. “Lift your hands in the air,” Sherlock says and I do as I am told. Sherlock locks eyes with me and I watch him as I feel his hands land gently on my hips. Slowly he has his hands climb up my body as he grabs hold of the edge of my jumper. He then begins to lift at it by letting the jumper catch on his wrists as he lets his hands slide slowly up, over my stomach all the way to my chest. Once he reaches my neck he pulls my jumper off and throws it to the side. “Hands down,” he says as he walks away to his closet. The lack of heat I feel from the withdrawal of his body catches me by surprise.

I feel a shiver run up my spine partly because of the new cold but more so in anticipation since Sherlock’s closet always has great surprises that I enjoy. This time though, I see Sherlock emerge empty handed and I can’t help feeling a little disappointed. He must have just left to give me time alone so that I would be more likely to break. “Arms out,” he says without looking at me. I do as I am told as he approaches me slowly. He reaches out his left hand and runs it up my thigh to my belt. He then reaches out his right hand but instead of touching my thigh like I expected, he instead touches my cock through my trousers. He slowly runs his hand up and down the length of my dick before leaving it alone and running his right hand up to my belt as well. I bite my tongue to hold back a noise of protest at the removal of his hand. He then unbuckles my belt and untucks my shirt slowly unbuttoning it and every now and then he lets one of his hands drop all the way down to brush lightly at my dick. The constant touches and the lack of full attention are slowly starting to drive me up a wall but I fight the urge to react with a noise. Once he finishes unbuckling my shirt he slowly slides it off pulling my arms back down to my sides. He puts one of his hands over my hard cock as he slowly kisses a line along my throat and runs his other hand up my undershirt. 

I can hear myself panting, struggling to not moan or make a noise louder than an unusual breath as I feel his hands tracing all over me. Then, right as it’s about to be too much, Sherlock plants his hot mouth with its warm breath on mine and I take advantage of the help that Sherlock is unknowingly providing me with. I focus on the kiss and I slowly take control from Sherlock changing the kiss from that slow, tantalizing way he does it to drive me insane and making the kiss more like what I need; faster and more passionate, reflecting my need to get him turned on as well. I lift my arms and tug him in closer to me pressing our bodies together as my tongue dances in his mouth with my hot breath slowly escaping our kiss in gasps as my heart pounds in my chest. I run my tongue along the sides of his tongue, playing with him as I tease circular patterns along it letting him taste me as I taste him completely. I can hear Sherlock’s breathing start to get erratic as the kiss begins to take him over and he starts to shift from hot and bothered to turned on. I take advantage and slide my hand lower on Sherlock’s back to cup his ass slowly starting to take more control in this situation. This seems to remind Sherlock that he was in a BDSM mood today and not a cuddly type of sex day like we sometimes have. He forcefully pulls away and yanks my undershirt off roughly staring at me with wild, lust blown blue/gray/green eyes. “Take off everything,” he says standing a distance away from me so that he can get a full view and probably to avoid having me touch him again. 

I smile to myself at this turn of events and decide to give him a show. I bend over even though I would normally just toe off my shoes but I go through the process of untying them and tugging them off my feet. I then slowly raise myself as I bend slightly at my waist to lift up my legs and pull off my socks. I straighten up kicking my socks and shoes to the side with my bare feet and slowly unzip and unbutton my trousers all while I watch him watching me. I tug my pants down to my thighs and then I let go so that they fall down and I watch his eyes grow hungry as he sees my erect cock so much closer to being free. I decide to toy with him and I run my hands down my stomach, cupping my cock through my pants before actually slipping them off staring at him as I step out of my pants and trousers fully naked in front of him. It’s incredible that I can do this. I never felt this comfortable when I was with anyone else but standing naked in front of Sherlock never makes me feel exposed, it only turns me on because I am not at all opposed to him seeing me naked. He slowly walks up to me pulling something from his front pocket and what he produces surprises me. He got me a collar? Is that what was rubbing against my thigh as we were kissing? Sherlock wraps the collar snugly around my neck not so tight that I can’t breathe but definitely tighter than anything else I’ve ever worn on my neck. It was simple, strong black leather with a bull ring on the front. The inside feels different at the back of my neck though, as if there were different stitching on it back there then what’s in the front. “Bend over that couch,” Sherlock tells me pointing to the corner of his room where a plush couch is located. A new addition since that was not here three days ago. 

I head towards the couch and lean over it. I hear him approach me but when I turn my head to my right I don’t see him and then, right before I look the other way to see if I can find him on my left I feel something being tied over my head which are not permitting me to see. A blindfold. Well that’s different. I almost panic at the idea but then I remember that I can’t make a sound. And more importantly I remember that this is Sherlock, and if I were to ever trust anyone when blind it would only be him. I relax then as I listen closely to hear his next move. I hear his footsteps get further away and I assume that he must be returning to his closet to grab more things. When he comes back I hear the distinct clink noise of metal items hitting each other. I hear Sherlock get on the couch and he grasps both my wrists in one hand stretching them up above my head but at an angle so that I am still leaning over the couch. Then I feel it, cold steel handcuffs are secured on my wrists as he attaches those to some chains that hold my hands and arms at that fixed angle. I next feel him stand behind me as he spreads my legs apart; he grabs onto my hips and lifts them away from the couch so that I’m not leaning on it anymore. He then proceeds to tie each ankle towards opposite sides so that I can’t move them closer to each other or closer to the couch. I then hear what sounds like a box of matches. I smell the match as it is struck and I smell something like berries as a candle is lit. For a little bit the candle just burns and then I hear Sherlock rubbing a plastic container to warm it up and I have no doubt in my mind that it is lube. Sure enough a few seconds later I hear the sound of lube being squirted out into Sherlock’s hand I’m assuming since I feel nothing. 

I panic for a second as I remember that I already ate food today and I realize that Sherlock doing me in the ass is a very real possibility and that I have no way of warning him but then I feel him rubbing the lube along the underside of my cock and I realize that Sherlock knows what he is doing. I let myself relax and simply enjoy the feeling of his slicked up fingers as they trace along the sensitive underside of my cock. I hear more lube getting squirted out and Sherlock begins to lube my cock completely. He pays no attention to any area in particular but is instead just focused on getting me completely lubed up. He then pulls away and I disguise my whimper with a sharp inhale. I strain my ears to listen to what Sherlock is doing but I don’t hear anything, but then I feel it. An extremely hot liquid is poured along my spine and it feels as though it’s burning my skin even though I can feel it immediately cool down and get stuck to me once it touches me. By the time I realize what is happening though, it’s too late. My fear got the better of me and the heat took me by surprise and I couldn’t help but cry out. Of course the candle had a purpose. Sherlock did something new so that I would have to cry out in surprise. Hot candle wax. God it burned but I couldn’t help but feel that heat all over, centering at my cock.

“John, did you break silence?” Sherlock asks me smugly and I can hear the victory in his voice. I remain quiet, not sure what the protocol is in this situation. Then I feel Sherlock leaning over me and I feel his hot breath in my ear as he whispers, “I’m so glad you did because now the real fun begins. Open your mouth wide,” he says and like the soldier I am, I obey without question. I expect Sherlock to shove his cock in my mouth so the taste of rubber, and not condom tasting rubber, surprises me greatly. I then feel Sherlock forcing the gag ball inside my mouth as he ties it in place behind my head. “Now, John, you can scream and moan all you want to.” With that Sherlock pours more wax on my back and with his permission I simply stop thinking and let my body react. I moan loudly embracing the feeling of the hot wax pouring down my back. And then Sherlock’s teeth bite at the sensitive spot on my upper shoulder and I just feel and groan because it feels so damn good to be free of my mind and make any noise I want to. Sherlock continues this pattern, pouring hot wax on different sensitive areas of my body as he continues to bite me in the tender areas getting me more and more aroused as I feel pre-come start to dribble down my cock and that is the precise moment when Sherlock stops.

I use the small pause to catch my breath as I feel Sherlock moving back onto the couch and I hear more lube being poured onto his hand and the sound of it being rubbed onto skin that isn’t mine. I can feel the heat of his body as he gets closer to me and fits himself into the pocket between my hips and the couch. I can feel his sweaty skin pressing against mine as sweat slowly runs down my forehead. And then I feel more lube being added to my cock as Sherlock puts both of our cocks in his hand and just that contact has me making noises to match Sherlock’s as we both revel in the incredible feeling that this is giving us by just having our cocks touching each other. And then Sherlock starts to make it better by pumping his hand. His push is my pull and vice versa and the sensation is driving me insane. 

Sherlock gasps out, his breathing ragged due to the stimulation. I grab onto the chains that are tying my hands and use them to help balance me better so that I can thrust into Sherlock’s hands and continue to rub our cocks together causing an immense amount of noise to escape his lips as he feels everything happening. “Come, when you want,” Sherlock gasps out, and the words make me shudder with pleasure and surprise since Sherlock normally controls when I’m allowed to come and when I have to remain waiting. I thrust still into his hand and push my tongue against the gag, trying to show Sherlock that I want it off. Soon I feel Sherlock’s free hand let go of the couch and undo the gag that I have on as he throws it onto the couch. Immediately I bend my neck down and bite Sherlock’s shoulder. The bite feels uncomfortable and awkward though since my bite has been temporarily affected by the ball gag being in my mouth. I release his skin and guess at where his neck would be but instead I end up biting his clavicle. Sherlock moans in response at the bite and I smile. I had been hoping to slowly build up my bites until succeeding in making it there but I guess there really isn’t anything wrong with me starting the fun a little earlier than anticipated. I open my mouth and I begin to trail wet and sloppy kisses along Sherlock’s collarbone, nipping, biting and sucking as I follow the sharpness of his bones. I can taste his skin which smells clean despite being sweaty and he smells just so strong and so masculine. Slowly my mouth trails along as I bite and kiss and suck to the noise of Sherlock’s grunts and groans. His hand starts to pump erratically with less of a smooth pattern since he is now getting close to the edge. I separate my lips from his clavicle and bite his chest. Sherlock’s gasp tells me that I have succeeded in finding the right spot since he breathes out harshly and I feel warm liquid splash onto my hip and my cock and I feel Sherlock’s cum dripping down my thigh. I continue to thrust into Sherlock’s hand trying to get myself off too when Sherlock catches my hips, stopping my motions.

I gasp at the abrupt stop and I can’t help but jerk my hips wildly as I try to thrust into something. “Dammit, Sherlock, I-” but Sherlock cuts off my screams when I feel both of his hands wrapping around my cock and slowly starting to pump as it changes my anger into moans. I feel his lips on the bottom of my stomach as he starts kissing and sucking my skin there to drive me insane all while continuing to move his hands up and down, faster and faster and I can feel it grow. The warmth starts to form a knot at the bottom of my stomach. It knots up and begins to channel all the warmth from everywhere in my body to that knot in my stomach which then slowly travels all the way down until it finally settles into the head of my cock and finally I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I am bursting with pleasure and the warmth shoots from being centered in my cock to being completely outside me as my whole body falls apart with my orgasm. I feel my legs and arms shake and my toes curl as my neck snaps back to help me release the groan that I need to let out and as my body spirals down I feel the chains be unhooked and Sherlock supporting my weight. I want to help him carry me but my legs feel like they can’t function at all after this. Sherlock tugs me on top of him onto the couch and we lay there together, spent, a sticky sweaty mess. I hear Sherlock’s breaths slowly even out due to his exhaustion and in the warmth and security of his arms I follow suit and sleep with his chest as my pillow and his arms and legs as my blanket.

I don’t know how much time has passed since Sherlock and I dozed off but I feel like I have to wake up because the heat that is radiating off of both of us is too much for me to handle. I slowly try to disentangle my body from Sherlock’s without waking him but then I realize that we are literally stuck together. I pull apart from Sherlock and I can feel the dry cum peel off of both of our skins as I move away and I can’t help but laugh because we were both so tired out from what happened that we didn’t even bother cleaning up. Sherlock groans in response to the feeling of our separation. Since he’s awake I simply pull away quickly, separating us properly from each other so that we aren’t stuck to each other. 

“Good evening sleepy head,” I taunt Sherlock as I stand up and stretch. I crack my back and shake out my stiffened muscles that feel like they just want to go back to being curled up into Sherlock like they have been for a while now. I slip on my pants for now since I want a snack before I go and shower.

Sherlock’s eyes shoot open in panic, “It’s evening?” Sherlock jumps off the couch pulling on his trousers as he runs to the window to pull open the curtain letting in the late afternoon sunshine. He whirls around to look at me and I recognize the look on his face, it’s the one he uses before he spanks me.

“Sher, Sher no, it was a joke, you can’t take everything so literally,” I say stepping away from him as he continues to approach me with that look on his face. “I didn’t even know what time it was, I just said a time,” I ramble on stepping away from him, considering running or talking it out with him.

“John, are you misbehaving on purpose?” Sherlock questions, slowly stalking towards me.

I look at him and I see it happen, I see the change in his eyes that confirms it. He just wants to give me a spanking and keep the fun going. I continue to back away from him, “Sherlock,” I say, a warning for him to not come and closer. He smiles widely in response and that’s how I decide what to do. I turn around and start to run to my room in the flat. Sherlock immediately gives chase and starts running after me. But I know him well, Sherlock may be a lot faster than me but I’m a lot better at turns. I start running in patterns, breathing harder the longer I run away, laughing, as Sherlock chases me, constantly bumping into things with his shoulders as he runs right behind me. I notice him gaining ground on me despite the turns and then we stop in the kitchen. Separated and on opposite sides of the table just like children end up, staring each other down. I don’t know how to escape with him blocking my entrance into the living room and I consider surrendering. But then I laugh because surrendering isn’t my nature and I know what I’m going to do. I run like a bull at Sherlock and he gets ready to catch me and stop me in my path but I expected that. As I reach Sherlock, I stretch out my arms and when Sherlock hugs me to catch me, I grab his legs and pick him up running to our couch as I throw him onto it with me on top of him. I wrap my legs around him sitting on his thighs to keep him in place as I begin to tickle under his ribs.

“John, John, stop” Sherlock gasps out between breaths. “You’re not supposed –“ Sherlock stops mid-sentence unable to continue talking as his laughter increases and he begins to squirm underneath me. “No tickling!” Sherlock tried so hard to put authority in that voice that I can’t help but be nice and stop tickling him. He catches his breath and reaches an arm up to me as he grabs onto the bull ring of my collar pulling me down towards him so that he can kiss me. We laugh through the kiss both sweaty from the run and out of breath from all the laughing. After a moment we stop kissing and we just stay like that. Sherlock laying on the living room couch and me sitting on top of him. Sherlock’s hands keep rubbing up and down my biceps as I run my hands through his soft and fluffy curls. Ruffling up his already messed up sex hair and making it look even wilder. “I hope you realize that you cheated,” Sherlock says finally putting an end to our silent stares. 

“Ya well, my bottom is still pretty tender from the last time I let you have at it,” I retorted chuckling at him.

“Well that was because the last time I flogged you, this time I was only going to spank you not flog you,” Sherlock lightly argued toying with me. He moved his hands onto my hips and began running his hands up and down my sides. “Don’t you like playing with me?” Sherlock mocked me lightly.

I smiled down at him and used my hands to grab on to both sides of his face leaning down lightly to kiss him chastely on the lips, “You know that I love it so you shouldn’t have to ask me.” I let go of him and grabbing onto the couch I stood up. “I am going to shower I said pointing at the come that was still stuck onto my hip and thigh and also at the sticky sweat that I was still covered in. I held out my hand to Sherlock, “care to join me?” I offered. 

Sherlock looked up and smiled at me, “Sure but this one will have to be a quick one, we have dinner plans for this evening.”


End file.
